


Husband

by cerealbaths (timelordangel)



Category: Rhett & Link
Genre: M/M, OT4, Slice of Life, rhink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-13
Updated: 2019-05-13
Packaged: 2020-03-02 17:15:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18815401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/timelordangel/pseuds/cerealbaths
Summary: The three times it (might) be a joke, and the one time it definitely is not.





	Husband

It starts as a joke.

One warm morning in September Link stares blankly at the front door of his home, his mind lost in the rhythmic hum of the AC unit just outside. His tongue works at a blueberry seed wedged between his molars as he waits.

“Where’s your husband?” Christy’s voice startles him, jerking him out of a thought about the smoothie he just drank, causing him to almost bite his tongue.

“Huh?” Link barely glances over his shoulder.

“I said,” Christy swats him on the shoulder with a dish towel, her pajama pants swiping the hardwood floor with every step, “where’s Rhett?”

Link shrugs and returns his attention to front door. “He’s just running late.”

And sure enough, six minutes later Rhett pulls up with a honk and a wave. Link snaps out of his reverie and jogs to the car, yelling, “Bye babe!” to Christy as he does so.

And if Rhett isn’t sure if Link said “bye” to his wife or “hi” to him, he doesn’t say anything about it.

-

The second time, Link is pretty sure it's a joke.

It’s date night for the McLaughlins, so Link and Christy have all five kids rounded up for the evening with an hour to spare before the movie. The parents linger at the Neal residence, Rhett nursing a fermented drink in a mason jar.

“It’s really insightful,” Rhett’s continuing some enthusiastic pitch after a hefty sip of the Kombucha. “You don’t get to experience all the benefits until you’ve spent a couple weeks in the program, but you wouldn’t believe how much my back pain has decreased since October.”

Christy’s listening intently, her arms crossed and her eyes laser focused on the tall man explaining the benefits of some program or another. This conversation has extended for well over fifteen minutes now, Link notes as he stares at them from across the kitchen.

“Any idea what they’re talking about?” Link squints as he leans against his kitchen wall, socked feet warm against the white tile below.

“I was going to ask you,” Jessie laughs softly, amused.

“Could be anything, might be intermittent fasting,” Link suggests with a thoughtful, comedic positioning of his hand on his chin.

“Mm, that only lasted until December!” Jessie says. “Maybe this new diet he’s on?”

Link grins and says, “That’s for his lactose intolerance, not back pain.”

“What about yoga?” Jessie pitches.

“Nah, that’s not a program. Come on Jess, you’re married to the man. What in the world is he so excited about?” Link teases, turning to jab her in the side with his pinky finger.

“Hey!” Jessie barks a laugh. “You’re his husband, you tell me.”

Link falters and says after a second, “Damn, I _do_ know what it is. It’s his new gym program with the trainer from, uh, Brazil, or Chile, or somewhere.”

At the mention of Brazil, Rhett whips his head over and says, “Oh, have you been listening?”

Jessie gives Link a look from beside him and he can’t bear to face it, knows exactly what’s written all over the woman’s features.

“Go on guys, you’re going to miss your movie,” Link scowls playfully, crossing the kitchen in three great strides to wrap one arm around Christy’s waist.

“Bye Jessie! Love you!” Christy blows a kiss from where she’s trapped by Link’s hold.

“Love you!” Jessie hollers back as Rhett ushers her toward the door.

The nonchalance shouldn’t evoke something that tastes like envy in Link’s mouth, but it does. Link says nothing and Rhett says just as much when they meet eyes across the house, but they know the sentiment is there, maybe buried, but there.

-

The third time, Link isn't so sure it's a joke.

It’s another Thursday in late spring, and the men stay late like they have for the past seven years, sitting with crossed legs on the floor of their office as the clock reaches nine.

“I think it looks better if we have the chapter pages without text,” Link muses, messing with the four different proofs in front of him.

“Yeah, remember the books we used to check out from the library as kids? They all had those chapter pages with pictures,” Rhett agrees.

“This ain’t a picture book, I just want it to be a dramatic change. Like, bam! New chapter!” Link exaggerates his motions, tossing his limbs out haphazardly into the space between them.

“It’s not a comic book either, you know,” Rhett laughs, shifting the pages away from him to grab another set.

“Ah, alas,” Link grins, “Could be out next book, though.”

“A comic book?” Rhett sits back on his hands. “About what?”

“I don’t know. Fighting crime, kicking ass, taking names. Maybe the world’s first 40 something super heros.” Link falls back onto the carpet and closes his eyes.

“Hmm, jus’ you and me. And I’m the hero, of course. You can be my crime husband. Sounds great,” Rhett says before seemingly catching his breath in the sharp realization of what just came out of his mouth. The whole thing was a joke except that one word, that one pesky word that has been following Link around for the past six months like the goddamn plague.

They don’t say anything more about the comic book after that. The silence between them is nothing unusual, however, and eventually Link drags himself back up into a sitting position and they talk about publishing details until Rhett falls asleep on the floor after a lull of silence.

“You idiot,” Link huffs affectionately, reaching his foot out to kick the giant awake.

For a second, however, he pauses and stares. This guy, Rhett, who frequents his home and sees horror movies with Christy, watches his children, and shares an office with him for 260 days a year, called him his husband. It came out so naturally, absolutely no trepidation behind the word, that it almost didn’t occur to Link that anything abnormal had been said at all.

Link lets his foot slide back to him, enjoying the silence of the office for once. There is not the momentum of past jokes for them to coast and slide off, only the gentle reminder that Link doesn’t get a lot of quiet in his life these days.

The mental noise begins to gather in his head and he touches his lips as he whispers the word, eyes locked on Rhett.

“Husband.”

-

The fourth time, Link knows it's not a joke.

He’s finally in therapy after months of watching Rhett uncurl like a fern, feeling safe at last in the warm mist during the first rain of summer. The noise inside of Link’s head has calmed down significantly, he notes as he gleefully tells his therapist that he didn’t scream at Lily for using metal tongs on his nonstick skillet.

Dominique grins back at him and asks if he has more examples of when he was able to calm down his anxious tendencies.

“Well, Rhett,” because Dominique learned Rhett’s name before anyone else's, “noticed that Jenna, our assistant, accidentally double booked us, and he was too afraid to ask her to fix it so he did it himself.”

“Did that bother you?” Dominique asks, knowing the answer.

“Yeah, tremendously. I mean, he could have sent her a text and it would have been resolved. I don’t know why he gets so afraid to say stuff to people.” Link shuffles on the sofa at the memory, irritation gathering in the back of his brain slowly. It used to take over like a tidal wave, but this time, Link is prepared.

“His actions are his actions, Link. Why does what he says bother you so much?”

Link takes pause and resists the knee-jerk reaction to deny it, brought on by decades of feeling some overwhelming need for absolution. It hits him, suddenly, why he cares so much what Rhett does. Deep down, it’s exactly the same reason he is overly critical of Christy at times; he thinks of them both as an extension of himself. Jessie too, come to think of it. The irritation evaporates and Link feels like he might be onto something.

“Link?” Dominique’s soft voice calls Link from the void.

Link shrugs, smiles, wiggles around with whatever residual energy he has in his limbs from all the conclusions he just arrived at, and says, “I can’t help it. He’s just my husband, you know?”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much to @ssodangdark for beta'ing :D


End file.
